La Belle et la Bête
by RegalGirl94
Summary: This is my version of Beauty and the Beast based on Villeneuve's version of the original fairytale. Belle finds herself confronted with the hideous figure in a Haunted House and is determined to break the curse before it kills him.
1. Prolouge

La Bell et la Bete

Prologue

Sometimes when there's a will, there's a way. Or so some people say. There's also the saying that anything than can go wrong, will go wrong. Some people believe in Fate, some believe in the theory of randomness. I didn't really believe in anything.

All my life, I'd been nothing but Belle. I wasn't Hannah – the pretty one. I wasn't Cathy – the confident one. I was Belle – the youngest one. The quiet one. The freaky one. The one who would rather hang out in the library instead of Brody Spenser's house drinking my insecurities away. The one who spent her lunch doing homework that wasn't due until the next day.

I was the one who didn't care what anyone thought of her.

I wasn't the one who didn't care what anyone thought of her.

I was only Belle.

And I thought that's all I ever wanted to be. That I was just fine being the insignificant younger sister of Hannah-and-Cathy. That soon I'd be famous and successful and happy and all those kids who made fun of me in high school would grow up to be losers who begged me for a job some day. Because, really, that's realistic?

But after what I went through... and seeing how it all turned out... I couldn't decide if I believed in fate or randomness. I just knew that I didn't believe in nothing anymore. And for now... that was good enough.

Maybe it was fate... what happened to me, I mean. Or maybe it was just a random event that led me to the end of my story. Maybe I'd never know.

All I do know is that the first saying was right. With my will, I did find a way.

How random is that?


	2. Going Away

CHAPTER ONE

GOING AWAY

* * *

><p>"Hello Belle"<p>

I turned to see Mr. Winchester smile at me from the door of his little bakery. I smiled gently at him, "Hello Sir."

He waved a large loaf of bread in front of me, "Would you like a loaf, Belle? You're much too thin."

I blushed and shook my head, "Sorry, Mr. Winchester, I have to get home to my dad. I'm making dinner tonight."

Mr. Winchester nodded, "Such a nice girl. Go on, then. But come on back soon, you hear?"

I nodded and smiled, "Will do."

* * *

><p>When I got home, my dad was sitting at the kitchen table. I drop my book bag into a chair and opened the fridge, "How was work today, Dad?"<p>

I heard him sigh as I took out ingredients for lasagna, "Rough, Belle. I may have to go out of town. Soon."

"To where?" I asked as I set out the food on the counter. I heard footsteps and the front door slam and knew my older sisters – by one year, mind you – were home from who-knows-where.

"New York."

I almost dropped the cheese, "Really? For how long?"

He sighed again, "I don't know but if my boss says so I have to go. I could lose my job if I don't."

I nodded and went back to cooking, "Alright. Well we'll be fine here."

"You'll keep watch over your sisters?" Dad asked.

"She doesn't keep watch over us, Daddy," Hannah said in her 'Daddy' voice. Aka; 'I want something expensive' voice. She and Cathy walked in with their large purses they called hand bags that they made their boyfriends buy for them and freshly done nails. Guess that answers the question as to where they were.

"Yeah," Cathy said in her 'yah-uuh' voice. "We're the older ones."

"But I'm the mature one," I muttered under my breath.

"What did you say, freak?" Hannah hissed at me with her too heavily glossed lips.

"Hey!" Dad shouted, making them jump, "Watch what you say to your sister or I'll send you to live with your Aunt Silvia while I'm away."

Hannah-and-Cathy pouted deeply, "We can _not_ go live with Aunt Silvia. She lives in the mountains. There's bears and stuff. And no sun for tanning."

I rolled my eyes and asked my dad again, "How long will you be gone?"

"Where are you going?" Hannah-and-Cathy asked excitedly. Of course they were excited at the prospect of dad going away so they could sneak their boyfriends over and have sex. Not that him being home really stopped them from sneaking out and doing it.

Dad sighed for a third time, "I'm going to New York for a business trip... maybe. To keep my job."

I could tell they hadn't heard anything past New York when they collectively got on their knees and started begging, "Take me! Take me! Please!"

I started making layers of lasagna as Dad said sternly, "Absolutely not. I can barely trust you in this quiet little town. You'd run wild in the big city."

The pouted even more and kept begging until Dad shouted, "One more word about New York and you're going to live in Maine."

They promptly shut up then.

I put the dinner in the oven and told dad, "I'm going to do some homework. I'll come down in about a half hour."

* * *

><p>Dinner wasn't exciting. Hannah-and-Cathy begged dad to bring them lots and lots of New York jewelry. He said he'd see what he could do.<p>

The next morning, Dad got a call saying he had to go to New York... for two to three months.

Hannah-and-Cathy couldn't be more excited. But their frowns turned upside down when he told them that instead of him sending them to Aunt Silvia, Aunt Silvia was coming to stay with them. To watch over them. Aunt Silvia was dad's step mom. She wasn't very strict... with those she trusted. Like me. But she didn't trust Hannah-and-Cathy and really cracked the whip with them. They hated her for it. But I silently thanked dad for sending her so I didn't have to be burdened with making sure those two didn't go get themselves knocked up at 17.

The next day Dad had to leave. He said that Aunt Silvia was arriving in two days time. Hannah-and-Cathy took comfort in the fact that they had some times freedom before their most hated relative arrived.

It was hard to say goodbye to my Dad. But he joked that I'd be having too much fun without him to notice that he was gone.

Not true.

* * *

><p><strong>Here's chapter one. Please review and tell me what you think so far!<strong>

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**RegalGirl94**


	3. The Mansion

CHAPTER TWO

THE MANSION

* * *

><p>"Hello Belle."<p>

"Hello Mr. Winchester," I smiled again. I held out my money, "Can I have that loaf?"

He smiled widely and rapidly nodded his head, "Of course, of course!" He went inside his shop and wrapped up a loaf quickly. He came back out and thrusted the bread into my hands. When I tried to give him the money he rapidly shook his head and refused, "No, no, Belle."

"I have to pay you," I argued.

But he protested, "It is worth it, sweet Belle. Take the bread."

* * *

><p>I went to volunteer at the library like I always did. But when I got home I was greeted with the sight of Brody and Hannah making out, practically dry humping each other, on the couch in the living room. My hands shot to my eyes, "Could you guys do that in your room?"<p>

I heard Hannah snort, "You're just a jealous virgin."

I shrugged, "I can keep my legs crossed." I opened my eyes to see them putting their clothes back on.

Brody snarled rudely at me, "Shut up, freak. Why don't you go to the Mansion and disappear?"

Ah, yes. The Mansion. The large manor at the top of the hill, separate form the rest of the town. Rumor was that a stranger and his servants bought the manor centuries ago and lived there in solitude. Now they say the stranger haunts the manor forever.

What a load of bullshit.

The thing is though... that ever since the 50s or so, stupid kids have dared each other to go into the house and come back out. But they never have...

* * *

><p><strong>The introduction of the mansion was pretty lame but I couldn't think of any other way to do it. Tell me what you think so far though.<strong>

**REVIEW!**

**RegalGirl94**


	4. Mysteries

CHAPTER THREE

MYSTERIES

* * *

><p>I was walking my dog, Todo – classic name, right? – down the street, not really paying attention. It wasn't until it got dark that I noticed we were almost to the top of the hill. I thought of all the rumors about that house.<p>

They say there's a beast living in the house that eats all those who go inside.

They say that the same family from France comes to work because their blood doesn't appeal to the beast.

They say it's a hideous creature with claws and fangs and a thirst for human flesh.

Did I really believe in all that crap?

Nope.

I kept walking, humming a song to myself. I heard a shriek too my side and looked over, but it seemed like it was just the wind or something. But in my distraction the leash was yanked loose from my hand as Todo rushed off after an animal or something. I rushed after him, "Todo! Stop, boy!"

For such little legs, he could run really fast. I almost couldn't keep up. "Stop Todo!"

He kept running, barking. We were right in front of the Mansion now. "Todo!" He ran around the side of the house. I followed him, panting slightly, around to the back of the house. There was a gap in the ground that led down to a basement or cellar or something. Todo ran down into the hole and I followed him. Todo was barking at a squirrel in the corner when I ran and grabbed him. "Todo, you know better than to run off like that!"

Suddenly I heard shouting, an old woman. She appeared and ran down from the house into the basement shouting, "_Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici? Vous avez a quitter! Aujourd'hui!_"

My eyes widened at her rapid language, "What? I can't understand you."

She waved her hands at me, "_Pas le temps aujourd'hui. Nous devons vous sortir d'ici avant qu'il ne vienne!_" She grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the stairs.

She led me into a hallway and tugged me faster, "_Vite, avant qu'il vienne!_"

"What's going on, Miss?" I asked loudly.

She brought me to a large front room with a grand staircase leading down to the large majestic black oak double doors. She carefully opened one of the doors and tried to push me out, "_S'il vous plait aller! Pour votre propre bien!_"

"_Qu'est-ce qui se passe?_" I heard a large shout echo off the walls after us. Suddenly a large figure, hidden under a heavy velvet robe. It slid down the grand staircase and shouted at me, "_Arretez!_"

I squeaked fearfully and threw myself out of the house with Todo in my arms. I raced down the stone path to the large creaky gates, hearing behind me, "_Arretez!_" But I just kept running as fast as I could.

"_Arretez!_"

* * *

><p>That night, I didn't tell either of my sisters. I didn't tell Myrtle. I didn't call to tell my dad. I was quiet. No one noticed how shaken I was. Todo yipped at me occasionally but he was a dog – he didn't really know what happened. My sisters never noticed me, they didn't now. They were too busy having a make-out orgy in the living room.<p>

I tried reading. But I couldn't focus. My mind kept going to that house. To the french woman. And the robed figure who yelled at me. I realized I didn't understand a word that they were speaking. I got up and out of bed and walked over to my desk, turning on my computer. I slowly typed in, _artes_.

A little thing popped up that said '_Did you mean Arretez?_'

I clicked on the link.

_Arretez_ resided in one box. In the other box beside it, _stop_.

Stop? Why did he want me to stop? I thought he was yelling at me to leave.

I ran a shaky hand through my hair and sighed to myself. It didn't matter. I was never going back. Never.

* * *

><p>"<em>Belle..."<em>

_I lazily and dreamily looked over to him._

"_Yes?"_

_He said nothing. Just lightly and gently and... lovingly squeezed my hand in his._

_Beep. Beep. _**Beep.**

I jolted awake at the sound of my alarm clock. Aunt Silvia was coming today. I slowly dragged myself out of bed and got ready for the day. I had to clean the house for Aunt Cilia. And start making lunch or something. Maybe I'd bake cookies so the house smelled like cookies.

I was in the middle of trying to save the burned cookies – I shouldn't have let Hannah-and-Cathy watch them while I went to get groceries – when the door bell rang. Hannah-and-Cathy yelled, "I got it!" and ran for the door, thinking it was one of their toyboys.

I calmly followed them and saw Aunt Silvia in the door way, much to the trouble-twins chagrin. She didn't look much different. Same old woman with fragile gray hair she dyed blonde. Same 1920s style hat that made her feel fashionable because she once saw me wearing one like it. Same plum colored skirt and matching jacket. But I had to give credit where it was due. Sometimes her outfit was mustard.

"Hello dearies, I'm here," She said cheerfully. Hannah-and-Cathy collectively groaned and walked away, trudging up the stairs to their rooms. I smiled politely, "Hi, Aunt Silvia."

She tutted, "Hello Belle. Looking as beautiful as ever. You remind me so much of your mother."

I fought to keep my smile up, "Thanks. I was just... burning cookies. But I do have one good batch. Would you like some?"

She smiled, "What a good dearie. Of course, I would. May I help with the bad batch, dearie?"

I shook my head and led her to the kitchen, "That's okay, I've got another batch ready to go in. Just gotta clean."

"Got to, dearie."

I hid my face when I rolled my eyes. Yup. Same Aunt Silvia.

* * *

><p>I peered down at the pages of a book through my glasses before I slid it over the cool metal to check it out. I handed it to the little girl, "Here you go. See you back in three weeks, right?"<p>

She nodded, her curls bouncing slightly, "Yes, Belle." She turned and walked over to meet up with her mommy at the library exit. I sighed.

"Belle."

I looked over to see Myrtle, the head librarian. "Yes?"

"There's not a lot of people here today. It's Saturday. Why don't you go out and have fun instead of being cooped up here with some dusty old books?" She smiled like a grandmother.

I leaned against the counter, "That's okay. There's not much to do in this small town. And I like books."

"I know you do, Belle, but you're a teenage girl. I'm sure there's plenty of young lads looking for someone to hang their arm." By her smile I could tell she was joking.

But it still made me blush, "I don't think so. I'm not very... into high school society." I looked through the spines of the books on the portable shelf, waiting to be put back home. I grabbed one, Pride and Prejudice. I showed Myrtle the cover, "Think of me as Elizabeth. Or even Jane. Seen as weird and unconventional in a society that expects woman to be dependent of men. I'm an innovator," I joked.

Myrtle smiled fondly, "Sure you are. But it does not hurt to be young once in a while. You're much too grown up for your looks."

I reached up to replace books into their proper place, "I guess some of us have to grow up sooner than anyone planned. It's no one's fault."

"I know that... But you don't have to be so grown up all the time. Taking care of everyone. Your sisters. Your father. Heck, everyone in this town can tell a story or two of how you helped them. Someone has to be trusted to take care of you."

I let her words sink in. I was just about to say something when I caught sight of a person browsing in the multi-language section. I glanced over and saw... the French woman. The woman who helped me out of the manor the other day.

"I'll think about it. Hey, I gotta put some of these books away, then I'll go find something to do, yeah?"

Myrtle – never suspicious – nodded, "You better do that, Belle. Or you'll have to hear from me."

I smiled back and pushed the cart down, trying to peer down the aisles for the French woman. Eventually I found myself in the French and Spanish Literature section. And I saw her peering up at a book, too high for her reach.

I left the cart behind and went to her, "Excuse me..."

She jumped, startled, and when she saw that it was me her eyes widened considerably and her head shook back and forth, like she was begging for mercy, "_Aucune. Vous ne pouvez pas etre ici._"

I tried to look as non-threatening as I could, "I'm sorry to bother you..."

"_Vous devez oublier,_" she told me earnestly, begging, "_Oubliez ce que vous avez vu._"

"I'm sorry I don't know french," I told her apologetically, "But I have to know what happened the other day. Who that... person was. Can you speak English?"

She shook her head firmly, practically shivering in... fear? "_No. Juste oublier._" She bustled away from me, dropping a book. I tried to call out to her, but it was a library. By the time I got to the front desk, she was gone.

I walked back to the aisle she was browsing in and picked up her book, an idea forming in my head.

* * *

><p><em>There was sniffling. I wasn't in this dream. I was merely an observer. The third party audience. I saw a vision of a grand room with a grand bed fit for royalty. It was high and green and dark wood. I heard coughing – painful coughing and hacking. I heard the sniffled grow louder. But these sounds didn't seem the same. They seemed separate. Like two different things were making two different sounds at the same time.<em>

_I saw a man, pail, elderly, sickly in the bed. Coughing – hacking painfully. His body arched off the bed as he stuffed his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise. There was a little boy at his side. Sniffling. He had his face dug into his father's other arm and the blankets of the grand bed._

"_Do not weep my son..."_

I jolted awake, again, as there were knocks at my door. "Yoo hoo. Dearie. Belle? Are you awake?"

I silently groaned to myself as I dragged my lead body out of bed and went to open my bedroom door, "Yeah, sorry, Auntie. Overslept."

She smiled and tutted, "No worries, dearie. I was just coming to tell you that I will be making dinner tonight. So you, my dear, will relax."

Why was everyone telling me to relax? To be young? It was annoying me lately.

But I smiled sheepishly and nodded anyway, "Great. Well... I'm gonna get ready... read or something."

Se smiled, "Very well. I'll see you later today."

* * *

><p>I didn't stay in my room all day. I walked around, reading. Surfed the web on my computer. I looked up common phrases in French.<p>

Eventually... I got bored. So I went to the library. When I got there, it was practically crawling with people. Kids from my high school, trying to check out books for projects due next week that they put off. Single woman in their thirties, hiding the spines of their books so no one would know it was a romantic erotic novel. My history teacher, getting a book on the time period he's supposed to be teaching us.

You could learn a lot of things from books.

Myrtle couldn't be happier to see me. She said I rescued her. After the initial rush of check outs, things calmed down to the normal dead library look this place had usually. I peered around, looking for the French woman. Maybe she'd come back for her book.

Myrtle asked, "Who are you looking for, hun? A fella?"

I blushed and shook my head, "No, no fella. There was this woman here... yesterday. I noticed she seemed... confused on my way out so I offered to help. She didn't speak English. She left. I was just wondering if she might of come back."

"Ah, Emile. I know her," Myrtle said, making my ears quirk to attention.

"You do?" I tried to ask without seeming too eager or suspicious, "Well, it is a small town. But I've never really seen her before. Who is she?"

Myrtle didn't seem to catch on, "Well she's French for starters. Keeps to herself. Doesn't surprise me that you haven't met her – not much of us here have."

"Well... does she live close to the library?" I asked subtly. I already knew where she lived.

Myrtle seemed a little hesitant to tell me, probably knowing all the rumors going around about the big Haunted House at the top of the hill. "Now keep a clear head.." She said in her Irish lilt, "She works out at the old manor at the top of the hill. She's worked there for as long as I could remember. I believed she was sent from France years ago."

"Who does she work for? Or does she just keep the house up?"

She gave me a look, "Have you heard all the stories...?"

I shrugged, "Just that a French stranger bought the house over a hundred years ago. And he and all his servants were never heard from again."

Myrtle nodded, "Well that part is true. But those rotten teenagers – not at all like yourself, my dear – spread stories about the people who just want to be left to themselves. They say horrid things."

"Like what? If you don't mind..." I asked quietly, abandoning my work.

"Horrid and untrue things like..." She threw her hands up, "There's a beast up there that gobbles up all the people who dare go inside..."

I gave her a sarcastic look, "Isn't that a little far fetched?"

Myrtle nodded, grateful for me not to laugh or believe the stories, "Exactly, my dear. It's just old spooky tales the youngins like to spread and scare each other with. Not one ounce of truth."

But I wondered if that was really the case...

* * *

><p><strong>REVIEW!<strong>

_Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici? Vous avez a quitter! Aujourd'hui! _What are you doing here? You have to leave! Today!

_Pas le temps aujourd'hui. Nous devons vous sortir d'ici avant qu'il ne vienne! _No time now! We need to get out of here before he comes!

_Vite, avant qu'il vienne! _Quick, before he comes.

_S'il vous plait aller! Pour votre propre bien! _Please go! For your own good!

_Qu'est-ce qui se passe? _What's going on?

_Aucune. Vous ne pouvez pas etre ici. _No. You can not be here.

_Vous devez oublier _You must forget.

_Oubliez ce que vous avez vu. _Forget what you saw.

_No. Juste oublier. _No. Just forget.

**RegalGirl94**


	5. Dreams Or Nightmares

CHAPTER FOUR

DREAMS OR NIGHTMARES

* * *

><p><em>The little boy. The weeping son. He was running frantically through a yard... a meadow of yellow flowers. A large house – almost like a castle – was behind him in the distance, maybe miles and miles away. The little boy was full-on sobbing now. He crashed to his knees and put his little head into his little hands. I wanted to reach out and comfort him – hug him or something.<em>

_But I couldn't. Because I wasn't there._

I didn't jolt awake this time. I just woke up. I wondered who that little boy was.

As I sat up in bed I caught site of the French woman's book on my desk. It was now or never.

* * *

><p>I rode my bike up the hill this time – without Todo. The long and tall wire gates were wide open and rusted. It didn't look like they'd really been closed. I left my bike on the ground by the gate and got onto my feet. I wrapped my arms around my middle as I walked through the dirt path leading up to the large black oak double doors. I was right before. The house was large and imposing with chipped paint. The large black oak double doors looked repainted.<p>

I gripped the large bronze knocker and was just about to knock when I noticed that the door that Emile – the French woman – had ushered me through was slightly ajar. With a trembling hand, I slowly and carefully pushed the door open. It creaked slightly, making me freeze. But when it was open enough for me to squeeze through, I did so slowly.

I looked around the big room I'd only gotten a glimpse of my last time here. The ceiling was high. The grand staircase looked wide enough for at least fifty people to line up on. The landing was bronze and the steps were black oak as well.

Then suddenly the door behind me slammed, shutting out all daylight. Candles flickered at the gust of wind from the action and the flames struggled to stay lit and lively. I gasped loudly and looked behind me, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the new lighting, "Who are you?"

"_Ce que tu fais ici?_" The dark, booming and deep voice called out loudly. My eyes could just make the outline of his tall, dark robed figure. He was imposing to say the least. "_Vous ne devriez pas etre ici!_"

"I DON'T SPEAK FRENCH!" I screeched way to loudly and way too bravely for how I was really feeling. I was practically shaking in fear.

It was silent. Dead. For almost two tortured seconds. Until the same dark, booming voice said with a thick french accent, "You should not be here."

I tried to hide how scared I was.

He asked, "Why are you here?"

I held up the French woman's book, "She left this at the library. I was bringing it to her."

I heard a dark sinister chuckle as his figure moved, "What is your _real_ reason? _Fille_."

I gulped, "I—I don't.. really know... I guess I just.."

"You just what?" He snapped. But he didn't wait for my stuttering answer and said, "You need to leave!"

"Last time I was here you were yelling for me to stop," I pointed out, surprised at myself for not peeing my pants and sprinting out of there. I don't know what I was thinking by coming here in the first place.

"I thought you said you didn't speak French," The figure mocked.

I breathed deeply in through my nose, "I don't – I looked it up."

"Doesn't matter," he growled, "Leave. For your own safety."

"And what about Emile's safety?" I asked bravely. And now I knew I was really just here for her. And answers.

"She is none of your concern."

"I'd like to thank her... Where is she?"

"_Alive_, if that's what you're really asking." Something about the voice now as bitter, as if self-resentful.

I whipped around, calling out, "Emile!"

I heard a heavy sigh and the figure called out, "Emile! _Descendre_!"

The large chandelier overhead suddenly lit up. I whipped around again to look up the grand staircase and see the frail looking Emile come rushing down, shaking like a leaf. I met her halfway up the stairs and grabbed her hands, looking into her face, "Please. Tell me what's going on! Uhh... ce qui... se... passe?"

The dark voice of the figure growled loudly, "Leave it alone. As you can see, Emile is in fine health."

I whipped around, more angry than scared, "No, _nothing_ is fine. Something is going on at this house and you're causing it. I don't know how and I don't know why but I know that it is. And I'm not gonna sit by and let this sweet old lady suffer when she tried to help me!"

I was panting by the end of my little spiel. The figure stood taller, "I haven't hurt anyone! I have never hurt anyone! I'm the only one who suffers here!"

I scoffed, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

The figure slumped, the tail of his – or it's – robe dragging on the marble floor. He didn't answer me. He just walked past me and Emile on the staircase and up.

Emile grabbed my hands more firmly and started pushing me towards the door, "_S'il vous plait._ Go. Danger."

I went.

But I had a feeling I'd be back.

* * *

><p>"<em>So handsome," A woman cooed. She was beautiful, flawless. Her nose was pointed and straight. Her hair looked like fine black silk, dark as pitch dark night. Her skin was milky and pail without a single blemish. But her eyes stood out the most. They were a bright, vibrant green. Unlike any other green color I had ever seen before. Almost inhuman.<em>

_She was half-naked – only in her underwear. She ran her fingernails lightly over the strong and muscular chest of a young man. I recognized him as the man from my dreams. He looked distressed. He looked like he wanted to push the woman off of him. But what young horny male would push her off?_

"_So... grown up," Her eyes glanced up and down, lingering by his hips. _

_Her hands traveled up, about to cup his face, when he firmly grabbed her wrists, "No, fae."_

_She looked startled, "No?"_

_He nodded firmly._

_She pushed her little body up and smashed her lips to his. She moaned wantonly as he tried to wrench her off. But after a moment he finally pulled away... and smiled._

_Seeing her face again... she was me._

_The young man smiled and cupped my face, "So beautiful. Belle." and he leaned in to kiss me again. I kissed him back, hard. I reached to wrap my hands around his neck. He wrapped his strong arms around my waist and lifted me up, carrying me to the bed behind us. _

_He laid me down, climbing on top of me and leaning down to kiss my neck. I fought a small moan as his kisses grew lower, towards my breasts. I felt my hands up and down his bare back. His kisses traveled back up my neck to the side of my face. He kissed my cheeks, my nose and then my lips. _

_He pulled back slightly and looked down at me with nothing but love in his eyes, "So beautiful. My Belle. I love you, Belle," he said as his fingers pulled down my underwear._

"Whoa," I gasped and shot up in bed.

That was... intense to say the least. And confusing.

Really confusing.

* * *

><p>"Lookie here Belle, at what I found," Myrtle told me with somewhat of excitement in her voice.<p>

I looked at her curiously and asked, "What did you find?"

"I finally found the source of all those horrid stories. It's mere coincidence from years ago. I was just a girl," She set down an old newspaper on the desk in front of me and pointed at the headline; MONSTER SIGHTED AT HAUNTED HILL.

"See, Belle? Some little boy thought he saw a monster and the whole hoax spread through town. People tend to twist tales the worst way for a good story. It's a shame. Such a beautiful house."

My attention was locked on the picture. It was blurry, unfocused. But it was a man. Disfigured. But human.

I looked up at the date; April 12th, 1951. I pointed to the print and said, "This can't be right. That was over sixty years ago."

Myrtle shook her head, "No, that's the right day sure. It's an old paper. Aint even running anymore. But the print doesn't lie."

I gazed at the picture. The figure I met didn't sound much older than this 'monster' must have been.

What was going on?

"And I found this one too. Source of the beast, I assume."

She pointed out another headline TOMAS BOY GOES MISSING! BEAST TO BLAME?

There was a picture of a grown man, maybe in his mid-twenties. He was blonde and handsome. But not the man in my dreams. And not the figure I had met. I looked at the date; December 5th, 1954.

What was going on?

* * *

><p>I peddled faster than I ever had before, one hand clutching the handle and one hand clutching the papers to the other handle. I was angry, scared and on a mission. For answers.<p>

I dropped my bike by the gate and ran up the dirt path. I push open the black oak doors and ran inside the house yelling, "Hey! Whatever your name is! Come down here now and talk to me!"

Silence. But I knew that he was here. He never leaves.

"Hey! I'm talking to you! Give me some answers! Now!"

"_S'en aller!_ Go away!" His voice growled.

I could hear the echos of where his voice was coming from. Clutching the newspaper in my hand I started running up the gran staircase. "No! You need to tell me what this all means! Why do I keep dreaming about a little crying boy or a woman seducing a man? Why does the whole town think a monster lives here! Explain these newspaper articles about a beast at the Haunted House and a boy going missing!"

I barged into a random room, surprised to see that he was actually in there, and held up the newspapers as if to say 'see?'

He was silent. Unmoving. It looked like he was thinking or something. "You don't want to know. _Sotte_."

I narrowed my eyes, "I don't speak French. And yes, I do want to know. I keep having these.. dreams... and I need to know the truth."

He didn't say anything.

I groaned, "Look, it's not like I'm a reporter or I'm gonna run and tell everyone but I've been having these strange ass dreams and questions and would like to know why."

"You're not going to tell everyone?" He asked in a shocked voice.

I scoffed, "Yeah, I'm gonna go tell everyone in this town there's a beast or something. That won't send me into more solitude. Besides, what business is it of theirs?"

"What business is it of yours?" He asked back.

"I'm the one with the freaky dreams. I deserve answers. Now."

"_Mon seigneur,_" he groaned, "I made the mistake of rejecting a fairy's advances. She cursed me. To be alone and hideous for all eternity."

I was quiet. That sound like my dream with the woman. Didn't really explain the second part but I wasn't willing to ask him about that. "Another thing... the picture in the paper... is from sixty years ago. How old are you?"

He laughed bitterly, "That will surely make you run away."

I set the papers down on a large oak desk, "Try me."

By the way his head turned, he was looking at me now. But I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see anything of his. "I was born in 1746."

I gasped loudly, trying to do the math in my head, "That's over two hundred years ago."

He chuckled bitterly again, "I am to be this way forever..."

"Just because some chick couldn't handle the word no?"

He chuckled again, less bitterly, "I never thought of it that way."

Suddenly my phone rang. I sighed and quickly answered, "Hello?"

"_Hello dearie, I was just wondering where you are. Dinner is almost ready,_" Aunt Silvia answered in her sickly sweat voice.

I ran a hand through my hair and said, "I'll be home soon. Bye." I hung up and looked at the figure awkwardly, "I have to go..."

"I've been trying to get you to go. But you never really leave."

I ignore him and walked out the door, I paused at the doorway and twisted to look at him, "I'll be back."

"I figured as much."

* * *

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**RegalGirl94**

_Ce que tu fais ici? _What are you doing here?

_Vous ne devriez pas etre ici! _You should not be here!

_Fille. _Girl

_Descendre _Come down

_S'en aller! _Go

_Sotte _Foolish girl

_Mon seigneur, _My Lord


	6. The Face Behind the Robe

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FACE BEHIND THE ROBE

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><p>"<em>Belle.."<em>

"_Yes?" I gazed over at him under the shade of the oak tree._

"_Why don't you love me?"_

_I looked at him, confused, and pushed myself up to lean on my elbows, "What?"_

"_Why don't you love me Belle?"_

"Belle?"

I groaned softly, "I'll be downstairs in a minute, Auntie."

"Are you alright, dearie? You sound down..."

"I'm fine, just sleepy." I swore.

* * *

><p>I went back. The door was always just ajar and I just walked in.<p>

"So you're back. _Sotte_." I saw the figure at the top of the stairs, sauntering down them.

I pointed at him accusingly, "I looked up that word. I am not a foolish girl. I'm just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," He snarled.

"Satisfaction brought it back," I smirked.

"And are you satisfied?"

I paused, "I'll let you know."

"What are you doing here... again?" He stood in front of me.

I wrung my hands together, "Told you I'd come back."

"That you did. What do you want?"

"I've still got questions."

He put his... arms out on both side and said, "Well? I'm waiting."

"No need to be rude."

"You're the one always breaking into my house."

"Touche."

"Ask away. Since I can never get you to leave," he said sarcastically.

"Why do you wear that robe?"

"I told you. I'm hideous," he answered shortly.

"So you said," I paused, "But you're only ever in this house. Never outside where people can see you. You have your privacy here. Why hide?"

"I wish not to scare my poor housekeeper, Emile," He answered, "And there are many mirrors in this house. I could easily see my reflection."

"And you don't want to..." I said softly.

He didn't say anything. He was standing in front of the window, gazing out.

"Can I?"

He was quick and harsh to say, "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" I threw my hands up like a child.

"I thought I made it clear. I'm a monster," His voice broke almost as he spat out the last word.

"As far as I can tell, you're not."

"People run screaming at one glance at my face. If that doesn't make me a monster, I don't know what does."

I sighed, "Looks don't make a monster. They help but – actions make the person. Show that you're a brave one and take off the robe. I won't … run away or scream. I promise." I had walked up to him, trying to peer up into the hood but he looked away. "Please? I promise it'll be fine."

He sighed, hard and long, "_Mensonges._"

I tried again, "Please."

Slowly he reached up, hand... claw? shaking. It wasn't a hand. It was pronged. He had talons for hands. Anyway, he reached up and took his hood, slowly drawing it down with great slow reluctance.

I gasped at what I saw.

He was human. And male. I could make out a nose, eyes, lips, the basic facial features. But they were marred and twisted by scars. It looked like his whole face was burnt. Red and pink slashes criss crossed on the skin. His eyebrows were uneven like the hunchback of Notre Dame.

I swallowed thickly, trying to hide my reaction from him. I wasn't scared. I was shocked. I reached up to the clasp of his robe. His talon shot out to grab my wrist and I stilled, "It's okay." He slowly let go and I continued unclasping the robe, letting it fall to his feet. He was shirtless but not pants-less. His torso was much like his face. One shoulder was much larger than the other. He looked fit under all the burns and scars. The red and pick slashes were much longer and deeper it looked like. It looked terribly painful.

I looked up into his face again. He was looked down at me curiously and with fear, waiting for me to run away screaming. I slowly lifted a hand to his face and pressed it to his cheek. He was careful not to move, not to react. I looked into his eyes. One was the brightest blue of the ocean waves with specks of green in them like salt. The other was the darkest pool of blue I'd ever seen. Both, were beautiful.

"Your eyes..."

He chuckled bitterly, muttering, "_Incroyable_. I show you how ugly I truly am and all you notice are my eyes."

I didn't say anything. I just ran my thumb up and down his cheek like my mom used to do to me. After a moment of silence, "Am I the only one who you've shown yourself to?"

Slowly he shook his head, "I showed my fiance. When I was first cursed. She screamed. Called me a monster. And then left."

I had to fight tears. Seeing him this way, hearing his story. It got to me. "That's hideous. Not you."

He laughed with disbelief and malice, "_Sotte_."

"What did I say? I'm not foolish. I'm curious."

And for a moment there, I thought I saw him really smile.

* * *

><p>When I got home, it was late. It took me a while to convince him that I wasn't afraid of his looks. I still don't think he believed me. Maybe when I go back, he'll get the message.<p>

"Where have you been?"

I whipped around to see Hannah-and-Cathy crouching by the front window. They were trying to spy on me. I glared at them, "None of your business."

They stood with their hands on their hips, "You're going out and seeing some guy aren't you? Wait until dad finds out!"

I scoffed, "Yeah because he does so much about you two. And no, I'm not going out to see a guy. We're not all sluts like you two."

I heard them gasp behind me as I walked away, into the kitchen. "Hey, Aunt Silvia. How was your day?"

She smiled at me, "Just fetching dearie, and yours?"

I shrugged, "Got a lot done."

Hannah-and-Cathy marched in, "Aunt Silvia, Belle's sneaking out to see a boy!"

Aunt Silvia laughed at them as I got out a cup of coffee and answered, "Okay, firstly, I didn't sneak out. I walked out of here like I do every morning. Secondly, I don't date. And thirdly, why do you care so much about where I was?"

Hannah-and-Cathy one pointed at me and looked at Aunt Silvia, "See? She's getting all defensive!"

"Well of course she is!" Aunt Silvia said loudly, "You two are giving her the third degree like she's been out with every boy like you two are known for. And no one's given you much grief about it, much to my utter horror. Why, I believe I shall have to do something about that while I'm here."

Hannah-and-Cathy's mouth dropped open. Hannah-and-Cathy two shouted indignantly, "You can't do anything!"

"Well I believe I can," Aunt Silvia replied without much malice or interest, "You are under my supervision this summer and some things will have to change."

I smirked into my coffee; finally.

* * *

><p><em>Mensonges <em>Lies

_Incroyable _Incredible

* * *

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**RegalGirl94**


	7. A Story of a Curse

CHAPTER SIX

A STORY OF A CURSE

* * *

><p>Everyday this week, I've gone to the mansion. I go and help Emile cook and clean. I go and talk. We just talk. About everything. I ask him questions and he answers.<p>

Until Friday when I busted out laughing uncontrollably in the middle of our conversation in the study.

He gave me a look as if I were crazy, "What are you laughing at?"

I tried to fight my giggled and calm down. I took a deep breath, "Oh wow. I just realized that I don't know your name."

He cocked his head for a second, thinking about it. Then he busted out laughing, "We don't know each others names!"

I started laughing with him. "Well tell me. What's your name?"

He looked at me for a second, "It's been so long... I almost forgot it."

I looked at him weirdly, "Who forgets their own name?"

"I've been around for a while," He answered idly.

"Well do you remember?" I looked at him expectedly.

He nodded shortly, "Gaspard."

I ran the name over in my head. Gaspard. "Hmm..." I put my hand out to him, "Well nice to meet you, Gaspard. I'm Belle."

He laughed and took my hand.

* * *

><p>"Gaspard?"<p>

"Yes?" He glanced at me from the table while Emile and I rolled dough.

"One of the articles was about the missing Tomas boy," I started, "What really happened?"

Gaspard was quiet... "So long ago, nearly fifty years. The boy wandered to the house and I freaked out on him. Much like I did with you. But he begged me to kill him quickly. Something about that struck me, so I asked him why he wanted to die. He told me how unhappy he was in his life. His parents ignored him when they weren't pushing him to become a doctor and marry. The girl he believed he would spend his life with, left him for someone of distant relation. And his brother he was much close to had died just the summer before."

"What happened to him?" I asked.

Gaspard sighed as he fingered his way through the pages of the book, "I told him that it wasn't worth dying for. I arranged for Emile's brother to take him to California where he would stay and make a new life for himself. Last I heard from Emile, who heard from her brother, the boy was now a man, married in Lake Tahoe with three kids and one baby grandchild. Very happy."

I let out a breath of relief, "Good to hear."

* * *

><p>I kept having dreams. The same ones basically. Tonight it was the boy. And I was there.<p>

_He was sobbing into his knees by an oak tree. I knelt by his little body, "What's wrong? You can tell me."_

_He peered up at me through his tear-filled eyes and puffy cheeks, "Belle, he's gone. He's dead."_

_I ignored that he somehow knew my name and asked, "Who? Who's gone?"_

"_Daddy..." He hiccuped._

Every time I woke from that one, I wanted to cry.

I tried to fix it into conversation that Sunday. "Gaspard?"

"Yes?" He asked, not looking up from his book. He showed me his library. I have never seen so many books in my life. I could spend days in there. But it wasn't what I was here for.

"I keep having these dreams. Tonight it was a little boy. He was crying..."

No answer. I looked over and he hadn't moved. He was still. Listening attentively.

"I was there this time – not just watching, and asked him what was wrong. He said his daddy died."

I turned and looked at him, "The little boy is you, isn't it?"

Gaspard sighed long and slowly nodded.

I stood awkwardly, "Can you tell me about it?" I came over to sit by him at the table.

He didn't look at me as he spoke, "I was a young boy – maybe four or five. My father died of some illness he had caught abroad at England. It was too late once we knew he was sick. He was already dying. Not even the finest doctors my mother could buy could help him."

I slowly reached out and took his hand out of some instinct, "Go on."

He didn't moved or take my hand back, "My mother left me with a fae, to go search for a new husband to support us. She died of the same illness, she'd gotten it from my father."

"The woman from my dreams..." I trailed off.

"She was a fairy. Magical. Rare. Sinister. _Le mal._ I was in her charge. But I was very cautious. I never trusted her. Then I grew older and more attractive and she decided that she wanted me. She tried to seduce me like I'd watch her do to many. But I refused her. I rejected her. So she cursed me."

It was quiet then for a while. Until he suddenly looked up at me from his book, "After all this time, not once have you asked me if there was a way to break the curse."

I thought about it, leaning back in my chair. I guess I always thought of curses as permanent. No cure like diseases. "I guess I never thought about it."

"But wouldn't it be easier to look at something other than this face?"

"It's not like I know what you really look like," I lied and shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me."

He whispered out, "_Etonnant_." (Suprising)

* * *

><p><em>The little boy, with his tear-stained face, was gazing straight forward. I was about to ask him what was going on when his face started to morph and grow and he grew older and older and older until he was an old man.<em>

_Then I suddenly saw the most terrifying vibrant green eyes flash before me._

I yelped as I shot out of bed. My face felt sweaty. I put a hand on my heart and tried to control my breathing.

What was going on?

* * *

><p>That Monday I went to the library instead of Gaspard's manor. I couldn't spend all my time there. Myrtle leaned over and asked like a gossiping school girl, "So who's the fella?"<p>

My mind instantly went to Gaspard as I started and stuttered, "W-what – fella?"

Myrtle smirked and giggled, "There has to be some lad keeping you away from little old me."

I blushed, "There's no fella, Myrtle. Trust me." Technically he was like 260 years old. Too old to be a fella.

"There has to be! Come on, Belle. You have to put yourself out there and let some bloke capture your heart sometime." Myrtle was earnest and excited at the very idea.

I shook my head, "It'll happen. And when it does, I'll tell you all about it. But not in high school."

We were interrupted when we heard someone clearing their throat. We turned our heads to see Emile standing on the other side of the counter, looking out of place.

Before Myrtle could say anything I greeted her, "Emile? It's nice to see you. Come to get a book... or uh... boulez... un livre?"

Emile smiled gently and shook her head, "No, Belle." She put a stack of papers – old and worn – onto the desk and slid them over in front of me. She placed my hands over them, "Ceux-ci auront les reponses (These will have the answers)." She then cupped my face like a grandmother and told me firmly, "N'ayez pas peur d'elle... ou l'amour (Do not be afraid of it... or love)."

With that, she turned and left.

"What did she say?" Myrtle asked me.

I shook my head and peered at the papers she gave me, "No idea."

* * *

><p>Aunt Silvia walked through the door to find me in the kitchen peering down at old worn out papers with my glasses pushed up my nose. She asked me, "What have you got there?"<p>

I stuttered for a non-suspicious answer, "Um... th—this woman that I've helped out at the library gave them to me. But they're in French."

"Ah, France," Silvia sighed dreamily, "I spent quite a summer or two over in the city of love back in my day. Some of the best days of my life."

"You've been to France?" I asked with interest.

She nodded proudly, "Had to learn every word of the language too."

I sheepishly lifted the papers and asked her, "Do you think that you could translate these for me? I'm curious and computer translators don't do much with grammar rules and what not."

Silvia pondered this for a moment before she got this determined look on her face, "I'll see what I can do, dearie."

* * *

><p>I was on my way to Gaspard's house that next Wednesday when I heard, "Lookie here! If it isn't Miss Solitude!"<p>

I barely turned my head to see Joey, Brody's lackey. Brody, Hannah-and-Cathy, Jennifer Billford, and Cameron Samuels flanking him. The 'it' group. _Joy_.

"What do you want? A blow job? I'm sure J-wow has got that covered for you," I snapped back.

Jennifer turned two shades of red while the others 'oooooh'ed around her and Joey. It was no secret they hooked up, despite Joey dating Hannah-and-Cathy two and Jennifer practically engaged to recently graduated Gregory Scott.

"Shut up, loner. Gosh, no wonder people never want to be around you. You're such a bitch!" Joey said cruelly.

I heard all this before. It didn't phase me. And sadly, Hannah-and-Cathy – my own sisters – taking part in it didn't phase me anymore either. But what he said next...

"Your own mother had to die to get away from you!" He laughed and looked around him for high fives. But no one was. Not even J-wow or Hannah-and-Cathy.

Hannah-and-Cathy looked ready to burst into tears or punch him – maybe both.

But I beat them to it. I smacked my fist into the side of his face as hard as I could, hearing the satisfying crunch as he stumbled back into his buddies. I then brought my knee up into his groin, making him cry out and bend over painfully until he fell to the group. I heard some clapping around me but ignored it as I bent down to look at Joey's face. "If you _ever_ – talk about my mother again I will _make sure_ that you can _never_ have children and that you look as ugly as you are on the inside."

With that I walked away quickly, ignoring Hannah-and-Cathy when they called my name.

* * *

><p>"Ow!" I hissed as Emile dabbed the cuts on my knuckles with something.<p>

She shushed me, "_Une telle pleurnicheur_ (Such a whiner)."

"What happened?"

We both turned to see Gaspard in the doorway, robe abandoned – he stopped wearing it after the night I convinced him to take it off – and arms crossed over his shirt-clothed chest.

I blushed, "I punched Joey Tamerson. Think I broke something. Of his, not mine."

He came over to my side immediately, examining my hand, "Was it a good punch?"

"Not really," I shrugged, "But I made up for it by kneeing him in the groin." I felt proud of that.

Gaspard laughed, "And what did Mr. Tamerson do to deserve such wrath?"

"Teased me," I answered shortly, not wanting to go into the details.

"Teased you?" Gaspard asked, shocked, "That's all?"

When I glared at him he elaborated with, "I don't mean to excuse him... but you're usually not very violent and you don't seem like the kind of person to let things like that bother you."

I scoffed, "Yeah, well, when he brought my mother into it, I... I snapped."

It was quiet as I looked down. I felt gentle hands take mine and looked up to see that Emile had gone and Gaspard had taken to tending my wounds. His voice was just a whisper when he asked, "What did he say?" in his french accent.

I took a deep breath to push down my anger, "That she had to die to get away from me."

His actions paused over my cuts momentarily before resuming and pressing lightly to the skin. "What happened to her really?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said shortly.

He lifted my chin up and said softly, "Now, Belle, I told you all about my life. Can you trust me?"

I sighed through my nose and nodded slowly.

"Tell me."

I took a shaky breath, "My mom and dad had me and my sisters when they were young. For some reason she had to die young too. She got brain cancer when I was four. Died about three years later. She was my best friend. Everyone always say that I look so much like her. Hannah-and-Cathy take more after my dad I guess. But they never say that I _am_ just like her. I just look like her on the outside. But I can't be the person she was on the inside."

I sniffed slightly and looked away from him, "She was so kind... brave and outspoken. She never cared what anyone thought about her. She never once complained about being stuck in this small town. She always volunteered or sacrificed for others before herself. I never heard her say a bad thing about anyone."

I looked up at him, beginning to cry, "I may have her eyes, her hair, hell I have her face. But I don't have _her_. I lost her years ago and I can never have her back!"

"Oh, Belle..." Gaspard sighed and brought me into his arms. I sobbed into his shirt, soaking it. "It's okay to miss her but... all the things you just described her as, you could say about yourself." I made a noise of disbelief but he shushed me, "It's true. You are kind. You'd have to be brave and outspoken to have kept coming here and bothering me the way you did." We shared a laugh at that. "You've never complained about anything and I know you're always volunteering at that library. It seems as if you're just like your mother... only better... because you're uniquely you."

I didn't say anything. Just reveled in the feeling of being in his arms. It felt too... right. I didn't know quite what to make of it. I sighed, "Thank you, Gaspard."

* * *

><p><strong>So here it is! Hope you guys learned to REVIEW! What do you think the story is about?<strong>

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**RegalGirl94**


	8. If I Can't Have Him, No One Can

CHAPTER SIX

IF I CAN'T HAVE HIM, NO ONE CAN

* * *

><p>"Who did you say gave you these papers again?" Aunt Silvia asked as I sleepily made a pot of coffee one morning.<p>

I tiredly answered, "This old lady, Emile. She doesn't speak much English so I've helped her out when she comes into the library sometimes."

"Mighty nice of you dear. This must be her way of saying thank you," Aunt Silvia commented.

"Why?" I asked curiously, "What is it?"

She shook her head as she looked it over, "I haven't been able to finish it but so far, it's a rather nice fairytale. It's about a man cursed to be a beast for eternity and his quest to break his curse."

"And how does he do that?" I asked quietly, trying to hide my eagerness for the answer.

"I don't know... Haven't gotten to the ending yet, dearie."

* * *

><p>"I wonder what it would be like to be human again."<p>

Surprised and startled, I looked over at Gaspard from my seat on the couch. "Where did that come from?"

He shrugged, "It's just that for the first time in years I've been thinking about a way to break this curse. I want to find a way now. I really do."

"Gaspard," I started softly, "Just because you look a little different and live forever, doesn't mean you aren't human."

He chuckled bitterly, "I think we might have to get your eyes checked."

I stood up, put my book down and went to grab Gaspard's talon, "Come on."

* * *

><p>I dragged him behind the manor. I don't think he had been there since he bought the house. But there was a large oak tree back there. It reminded me of the oak tree that my dreams sometimes took place under. The grass was overgrown, almost to my knees and we had to tread a little bit.<p>

"Why did you take me out here, Belle?" Gaspard asked, looking around wildly like he expected a mob of people to come out and call him a monster. I realized that this must be the first time since the 50s that he went outside without his robe – or outside at all.

"Take off your shoes."

He gave me a look like 'I'm so not'. I gave him a look back and put my hands on my hips like an impatient mother. He rolled his eyes, slipping off his shoes. I kicked off my sandals and said, "Wiggle your toes in the dirt."

I lightly hummed a random song to myself as I did so and made sure he did. "And why are we doing this?"

"Can you feel the dirt? See the tree and grass? Feel the wind?"

"Yes..." Gaspard answered suspiciously.

"And do you care about Emile?" _And me?_ I peered up at him.

"I care about you both," He answered with confusion in his accent.

"So if you can feel all that, how can you be anything other than human?" I asked, knowing I made a point.

Realization dawned on his face, "You have a point, Belle, but I can't be a fully functioning human being looking the way I do. I could never go out, be with people."

"I'm sure Emile and I aren't the only people who wouldn't care what you look like," I told him.

"But you are of a rare breed," Gaspard said solemnly.

I stepped closer to him, "That doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Gaspard told me.

I wiggled my toes into the dirt a little more and commented, "Do you wonder what you'll do if you become... you, again?"

"I don't know... I never did anything but farm work in France before I was cursed."

"I think you'll be fine," I pondered, "You just have to …. have faith. As lame as that sounds."

He chuckled softly. I took his hands in mine and tugged on them, "Let's dance."

"What?" He asked aghast.

"Dance," I giggled, "I've seen it in cheesy chick flicks all the time. Dancing to no music."

"I don't dance," Gaspard protested.

"You're French, of course you do," I stuck my tongue out at him. I began slowly swinging our hands side to side.

Gaspard rolled his eyes, "If we're going to dance, we'll dance the way I used to back home." Without explaining, he tugged me towards him. He placed my left arm on his shoulder and placed his right arm around my waist. He took my other hand in his and began counting under his breath, "1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3..."

He stepped forward, I stepped back. He stepped to the side and I followed. Soon we were dancing in a little circle in the overgrown grass beneath the large oak tree of my dreams. I smiled softly, "Told you, you were human."

* * *

><p>"<em>Miss Belle..." The little boy murmured through his tear stained face, holding out his hand to me.<em>

_He quickly morphed into a handsome young man. "My Belle..."_

"_LITTLE WITCH!" Vibrant green eyes._

I jolted awake with a small scream. Suddenly my door opened and I saw Hannah-and-Cathy barge into my room, "What's wrong?"

I wiped my forehead and shook my head, "Just a nightmare."

"About what?" Hannah-and-Cathy one asked.

I narrowed my eyes at them, remembering the other day, "Why do you care?"

They looked shocked that I snapped at them like that but I didn't care. They have just stood by or even participated in the mockery and I had enough.

Hannah-and-Cathy two sighed, "We're sorry about... Brody. I broke up with him."

I pushed my blankets off of me and headed for my bathroom, "Good."

I changed quickly and my sisters were still in my room when I came out, "Still here I see."

"Why are you being like this? We said we were sorry," Hannah-and-Cathy one said.

"That dick talked about mom and you stood by and let him. It doesn't matter if you dumped him or not. You didn't do anything at first. And it's not just the other day. It's every single day before that!"

"Belle..."

I put my hand up, "No! You've stood by and even took part in the constant teasing and mocking and you think you have any right to come in here and expect everything to be okay. It's too late. I can not wait until I am finally out of this house and away from you. The only time I can escape is the – library." I almost said Gaspard's manor. But I couldn't give him away. They would let me live it down until I told them everything. And they wouldn't believe me.

"We're sorry!"

"Sorry isn't good enough!" I stormed out of my room, not stopping to greet Aunt Silvia or get breakfast and I barged out of the house, loudly.

* * *

><p>I was checking books out tediously. I was bored out of my mind. Myrtle came over to the desk, "Why don't you just go off where you always go off to? You don't look cheerful."<p>

"I've never been cheerful, Myrtle. And I'm over there way too much," I replied.

"Please admit there's a fella, Belle. I've never seen you as happy as when I know you're going over there."

She looked so … pleading. Like a little kid giving puppy eyes and fake tears for ice cream before dinner. I sighed, thinking of Gaspard. Was there a fella? Was he my fella? Did I want him to be?

Slowly, I nodded, "Alright. There's a fella."

Myrtle squealed like a school girl – at the age of seventy something. "Oh, dear, bless my soul. It's finally happened."

I rolled my eyes, "You win."

She squealed again, "Tell. Me. Everything."

I shook my head, "Not much to tell. Don't want to jinx it anyway."

She nodded fervently, "Of course. Zipped lips. Tell me when it gets good." With that she bustled off to busy herself elsewhere.

I shook my head at her antics and went back to work.

Maybe five minutes later, something slammed on the counter top. I whipped my head up to see a figure standing at the counter... in a robe.

I gasped out, "Gaspard?"

But when the figure lifted their hood I saw the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen; nose pointed and straight, hair like black silk, dark as pitch dark night, skin was milky and pail without a single blemish. Eyes that were a bright, vibrant green. I knew who she was. She was the woman from my nightmares. The woman who tried to seduce Gaspard.

The woman who cursed him.

"You!"

"Did you really think I was just going let you thwart my plans!" She hissed through her perfect teeth.

I leaned in and glared at her with as much hate as I could muster, "Take that curse off of him!"

She grinned at me with malice, not saying anything.

"Take the curse off! Just let him be and leave him alone! He never did anything wrong!" I demanded of her.

"This is a warning. Stop. If I can't have him, no one can." There was a hiss as dark green smoke erupted from the carpeted ground and swallowed her up. And in a flash, her and the smoke cleared away and disappeared.

I looked around, seeing that only a few people were in the library and none of them had noticed.

* * *

><p>"Gaspard!" I called out as I walked into the manor, looking around.<p>

"In the study!" I heard from up the stairs.

I quickly walked up the grand staircase and all the way down the hall. By the time I was at the study doorway I was panting, "I saw her. I – saw the fairy. The one who cursed you."

Gaspard abandoned his book and stood, quickly coming to my side. "Are you serious?"

I nodded, trying to catch my breath, "She came to me in the library."

Gaspard coughed roughly and suddenly. I looked at him, concerned, "Are you alright?" He shook his head dismissively, "I'm fine."

He grasped my arms lightly, "Are you alright?"

"Of course. She didn't touch me. I demanded for her to leave you alone, take the curse off you but she just said 'If I can't have him, no one can' and disappeared in green smoke."

Gaspard took his hands off of me and turned away, growing silent. He shoulder's were tense and hunched over and his face was twisted in deep thought. "Gaspard?"

"You should leave," He said coldly.

I gaped at his back, "What? What are you talking about?"

"Just go."

"No," I answered sternly, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Why would you want to be here? Why are you always here?" Gaspard asked with an angry edge to his voice as he whipped around to face me. "You've never had to be here and look at me. And now with fae here it's dangerous for you. You have an out now."

"And out?" I asked, astonished, "And out to what?"

"To a normal life. To leave. You don't have to stick around because you feel sorry for me!" Gaspard slightly raised his voice.

"Why would I leave my only friend? I don't feel sorry for you, I don't pity you. I'm here because I want to be."

"You're only friend?" Gaspard asked quietly.

I shrugged, not getting the big deal, "Yeah, not much a secret that I'm a loner."

"You're not a loner..."

I scoffed, "I only have one friend and he's like 250 years older than me. What else would you call a loner?"

Gaspard walked slowly towards me, "Just me?"

I shrugged again, "I guess there's Myrtle but our age difference is more obvious."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why me?" Gaspard asked me slowly.

I thought about it. Why did I keep coming back? I knew why now, I liked him. As a friend. He was nice when you got to know him. But why did I keep coming back initially? He was nothing but a mean, robed figure that made no secret of how much he didn't want me there. I could lie and say I only came back for Emile but I knew the truth. I was drawn back by some... connection. Some connection that I felt with Gaspard, that I couldn't explain.

"We... connect."

Gaspard was close to me now, "We do."

I tucked my hair behind my ear, "You get how it feels to feel alone. Like I do."

"You're not alone now," Gaspard whispered.

I stuttered, "Are you going to kiss me?"

He didn't answer immediately – he thought about it first. Slowly he asked back, "Would you let me?"

Now it was my time to think. Maybe Myrtle was right. Maybe Gaspard was my fella. I had never felt more at home than here with him whether we were laughing or reading separately in comfortable silence. That had to mean something. "I just might..."

"_Vraiment_? **(Really?)**" Gaspard whispered with shock in his tone, "You would really kiss someone like me?"

"Well, you do have lips," I smirked, "and that's kind of what they're for."

He chuckled under his breath, "_Tu ne cesses de me surprendre. _**(You never cease to amaze me.)**"

"I still don't speak French," I pointed out.

He chuckled again, "I said, you never cease to amaze me."

I rolled my eyes, "Just kiss me already."

He half-smiled and slowly leaned in. I leaned up, closing my eyes.

But then something shattered loudly. I held back a yelp as Gaspard and I shot apart and whipped around to see that someone had broken the window. Wind whistled as it wound through the window and smashed into us on all sides. I shut my eyes and dug my face into Gaspard's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, shielding me somewhat.

Suddenly the wind stopped, abruptly. I looked up at Gaspard, "What the hell what that?"

"I have no idea," Gaspard said, looking out the window.

I followed his eyes and what I saw made me gasp. Fire decorated the brown lawn outside the study's window spelling out the words; HE IS MINE.

* * *

><p><strong>Uh oh! Trouble! And we know now that they like each other... but is it just a crush?<strong>

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**RegalGirl94**


	9. How To Break A Fae's Curse

CHAPTER SEVEN

HOW TO BREAK A FAE'S CURSE

* * *

><p>"<em>AHHH!" I inwardly flinched at Gaspard's cries. Fae leaned over him with a cruel smile, "Take your punishment."<em>

_I found that I couldn't move. I wasn't really there. I tried to move, to cry out, "Why are you doing this? Stop!" But I couldn't utter a word._

_Gaspard cried out again. She wasn't even touching him. I didn't know what she was doing to him. He looked to be in immense pain, arching up and crying out loudly, scaring me._

"_Please! Belle!" Gaspard screamed out._

_Fae smirked over him, "She's not here. She'll never be here. Why would she?"_

"_Ugh," Gaspard grunted, "Love."_

_Fae cackled evilly, "Love? You think she loves you? Who could love a thing like you? So ugly. She doesn't care about you."_

"_No..." Gaspard whispered and I wanted to whisper it with him._

"_It's true, Beast. If she loved you, she would be here, no?" She spread her arms out, gesturing around her, "But where is she? Not here. Because she doesn't love you. She doesn't care if you live or die."_

_I wanted to cry, to deny it. Because it wasn't true. I did care. I wanted him to live._

_Gaspard's back arched off the floor, him screaming out in anguish._

"Gaspard!" I gasped out as I jolted awake in bed.

"Nice dream?" A voice said from my window.

I let out a little yelp as I whipped over to see the fae sitting at my desk. "You! What are you doing here, again? Why can't you just leave us alone?"

She smirked with cruelty, "Just showing you what's going to happen soon if you don't stop what you're doing."

I tried to stop shaking in fear. This … thing could do anything to me. Slowly, quickly. Painlessly... painfully.

"What?"

She cocked her head, "If you don't stop, the curse will kill him. The heart can only work for so long without any love to keep it going. And soon... his will give out."

"What are you saying?" I asked slowly.

"That Gaspard will soon die of a broken heart if the curse isn't broken."

"So break it," I said through my teeth, "Now."

She smirked, seeming amused at my distress and faux-bravery. "No. I won't break the curse until he's mine. So he will either be mine... or die. I should have done this a long time ago." Then she disappeared in much the same fashion she did at the library.

* * *

><p>The door was locked when I got to the manor. I knocked loudly with the massive bronze knocker. It must have been a whole ten minutes of constant knocking before Emile slowly opened the large oak door. She looked at me with grim drowning her expression. "<em>Ma chere, vous devez aller. <em>** (My dear, you must go.)**"

I shook my head, understanding the word 'go' and said, "No, Emile. I need to see him." I walked into the manor, past her and up the stairs. I checked the study. He wasn't there. I checked the library. He wasn't there. I checked the kitchen, sitting room, and basement. He wasn't there. When I got to the kitchen I met Emile and asked, "Where is he? Ou... est, Gaspard?"

"Bed."

I ran back up the stairs. I had never been to Gaspard's bedroom. But I knew where it was. I don't know why I hadn't checked it already. I paused in front of the tall door, hand poised to knock. "Come in, Belle. I can never keep you away."

I slowly opened the door, "No, you can't." What I saw, made me want to cry. Gaspard was lying in his bed, looking half asleep, but in a weak way. "What's wrong with you?"

"I should have known this was coming with that first cough," Gaspard referenced his couch when I told him fae had come to me. "I've never gotten sick since I became immortal. Though I guess I'm immortal no longer."

I wrapped my arms around myself, "Don't say that. You're not going to die."

Gaspard coughed hardly, "_Si optimiste._"

I walked over to his bedside, sitting down at his side, "I still don't speak french, Gaspard. You and Emile have to stick around to teach me."

"Emile will have her work cut out for her," Gaspard 'chuckled'.

I lightly smacked his shoulder, "I said don't talk like that. You're going to be fine. We'll find a way to break this curse."

"I've stopped caring about what I look like."

"That's not what I mean, Gaspard," I closed my eyes tightly before opening them again, "Fae came to me again after giving me a nightmare about you dying. She said that soon you'll die of a broken heart unless the curse is broken and she won't lift it unless you're hers."

"I will never be hers," Gaspard swore harshly.

"I know that, but... we need to find a way to save you. I _will_ find a way to save you."

* * *

><p>I typed quickly on the keys of my computer, searching 'curses'. Too many things turned up on the search engine. I searched through, then narrowed down my search to 'fairy curses'. That didn't do too much for me.<p>

I sighed and stood up, picking up my bag before walking down the stairs. Hannah-and-Cathy were in the living room, "Where are you going, Belle?"

"Out," I muttered, walking past them.

"Why the rush?"

"It's important."

* * *

><p>I poured over every book in the library. I even went as far as to ask Myrtle what she knew about ancient curses. She gave me a weird look but answered which way that would be found. I must have had about ten books when I came home that night.<p>

Hannah-and-Cathy seemed not to forget out little morning chat, "You were at the library all this time?"

I didn't answer, just running up stairs and into my room. I heard a knock on my door and called out, "Go away."

Hannah-and-Cathy opened the door anyway. "What's going on? What's wrong?" Hannah-and-Cathy one asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said as I laid out books on my bed and desk and turned on my computer.

"We promise we won't," Hannah-and-Cathy two said.

I shook my head, "Trust me. You'd send me to a psychiatric hospital."

"Just please tell us. We won't say anything."

I looked at them for a long time, wondering what had kidnapped them and taken the place of my sisters. "Why are you trying to help?"

They sighed, "You're our sister. We haven't really acted like sisters to you when we should have. We'd like to make up for it now. We want to help."

I sighed and gave in, "There's this... guy."

Hannah-and-Cathy squealed, "OMG, is he cute?"

I smirked, "Actually he's one of the most hideous guys I've ever seen. But I could care less about that."

They deflated a little, "Well... what's the problem?"

I hesitated, "I'm gonna sound crazy."

"Try us," Hannah-and-Cathy said.

I crossed my arms and sighed, "He is a 266 year old French farm boy who has been cursed by a fairy because he wouldn't sleep with her. He's cursed to be alone and hideous forever. But somehow I got her angry and she's slowly zapping the life out of him. He'll die if I don't find a way to break the curse."

Hannah-and-Cathy's mouths were wide open and gaping at me. I could practically hear crickets in the background. I groaned and slapped my hand over my eyes, "I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"Well can you really blame us?" Hannah-and-Cathy one asked.

"Yeah, I mean... 266 year old guy cursed to live forever ugly by a fairy?" Hannah-and-Cathy two summed up.

I threw my hands up, "Well it's not like I can prove it to you. Short of bringing you to the manor-"

"Wait," Hannah-and-Cathy one interrupted, "Manor? You mean the Haunted House at the top of the hill? Why did you ever go there!"

I sat at the edge of my bed and began, "I was walking Todo one day and he got loose. I ended up at the house and met Gaspard. But back then he was in a robe and I never saw him. I went back to get answers. That's where I've been going so much for so long lately. He's my only friend."

"Wow..."

"Yeah... I need to find a way to break this curse," I explained.

"Do you love him?" Hannah-and-Cathy two asked.

I paused at that question. Did I love Gaspard? I cared for him. So much. I wanted to be with him. But did I love him? "He's important to me."

"Can we meet him?"

"What?" I gasped out.

"We want to meet the guy who makes you happy," Hannah-and-Cathy one said.

* * *

><p>I opened the door, looking behind me at my sisters, "Be quiet." They nodded, quietly.<p>

I led them up the grand staircase and opened the door to Gaspard's room. Lately, every time I go in there, I want to cry at the sight of him so weak on the bed. He coughed violently and then took a shot breath, "Bonjour, Belle. You're always coming back."

I smiled weakly, sniffing, "This time I've got company. I hope you don't mind."

The small smile fell from his face, "Who did you bring?"

I gestured for Hannah-and-Cathy to follow me into the room, "My sisters. We had a... talk. And they were asking me what was wrong. So I told them about you. They wanted to meet you."

He looked panicked, like he wanted to run away. He tried to sit up but it took great effort. I ran to his side and gently pushed him back down onto the bed, "It's okay. Don't get up. Le repos."

He chuckled, "Did you look that up, too?"

I half-smiled, "Yeah. Seems you won't listen to me in English. I've gotta use French."

Gaspard coughed again and looked over to Hannah-and-Cathy and muttered bitterly, "Go ahead and scream."

They gaped at him, "Are you alright?"

Gaspard and I looked at them shocked. "Fine..."

They looked wary, as reaction to his looks. But I could see they were trying. That was all I could ask. I stood, "I need to help him..."

Hannah stepped forward and looked at Gaspard, "Hi, I'm Hannah. This is my twin, Cathy. It's nice to meet you, Gaspard."

Cathy smiled and said, "Nice to finally meet someone who can truly make Belle happy."

* * *

><p><strong>Aw sisterly reunion! Hope you noticed the crucial change at the end there.<strong>

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**RegalGirl94**


	10. The Curse's End

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE CURSE OF THE FAE

* * *

><p>So Hannah and Cathy took to Gaspard well enough. They even came back to visit him once more and were helping me look for a way to save him.<p>

I was rushing Aunt Silvia to finish translating the papers. But she said that the language is like old French of which she isn't famiiar. She was trying though.

I stopped going to the library. Myrtle had called, worried but I told her I was just preoccupied with my fella. I gave her a little more details before she let me hang up.

Gaspard was growing weaker and weaker. I was growing more and more stressed. Hannah, Cathy and I couldn't find anything in any of the books or websites I found.

"If you were coming in the fall,

I'd crush the summer by

With half a smile and half a spurn,

As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year,

I'd wind the months in balls,

And put them each in separate drawers,

Until their time befalls.

If only centuries delayed,

I'd count them on my hand,

Subtracting till my fingers dropped

Into Van Diemens land.

If certain, when this life was out,

That yours and mine should be,

I'd toss it yonder like a rind,

And taste eternity.

But now, all ignorant of the length

Of time's uncertain wing,

It goads me, like a goblin bee,

That will not state its sting."

"_Eboloussant_," Gaspard murmured.

"What does that mean?" I looked down at him from my sitting position at his bedside.

He gazed up at me, "Dazzling."

"Yeah, Emily Dickinson was great," I said back.

"I wasn't talking about the poem," Gaspard protested.

I blushed at that, "My dad says that my mom used to read poetry to us when we were sick or sad. Hopefully it actually works for you."

"I think I'm beyond poetry," Gaspard coughed.

I set the book down, "Don't say that."

"Belle... You need to accept-"

"I need to accept nothing," I interrupted, "You're going to be fine." I wanted to tell him that everything would be alright. That I would fight for him to live. That I needed him to live. I needed him in my life. I loved him.

But I couldn't get the words out. I was too afraid that if I told him – said the words... it would hurt more if all my work was for naught and I lost him in the end. I would be devestated.

"Belle..." Gaspard struggled, too weak.

I pulled myself down to lay beside his body, "Go to sleep. Le repos."

He struggled to keep his eyes open, "Belle..."

I took his.. talon into my hand, "Just rest."

* * *

><p>I got home and it was really late. Seeing Gaspard that way... was awful. He was so weak. So frail. And there was nothing I could do for him. I never felt so helpless as I did now. I was trying so hard to save him and he was trying so hard to hold on. But nothing was working and I could feel that he was running out of time.<p>

It wasn't fair. He lived for 266 years and then has to die so soon after I found him. Nothing about this was fair.

I collapsed into my bed, tears falling freely from my face. I dug my face into my pillow and let out a huge sob. My shoulders and back shook with painful tremors as I let all my emotion wash over me. I could feel myself breaking with every day I didn't save Gaspard. I felt like such a failure. If I couldn't save him, what was the point?

* * *

><p>I didn't want to wake up the next morning. I had fallen asleep, crying. I was still in my clothes from the day before and my face was sticky and wet with dry tears. I groaned as their was a knock on the door, "Go away."<p>

Hannah opened the door, with Cathy behind her. "Belle?"

I cuddled into my pillow, "It's useless."

"What is? Gaspard?" Cathy asked.

I shook my head, "Trying. I can't do it. I can't save him."

"What?" Hannah asked, "Of course you can."

"Don't give up now," Cathy almost begged.

I sat up in my bed, "I've tried everything. The only hope we have is that Siliva will find out how to break the curse from the papers. But it's getting difficult for her finish."

Hannah sat at the foot of my bed, "It's not too late. There is hope. Just think of him. How you feel about him. And then that will make it all worth it."

* * *

><p>After finding nothing that day, I couldn't find it in me to go to the manor. I couldn't face him and tell him there was no hope.<p>

That night I tossed and turned.

"_AHH!" Gaspard cried out as the slashes on his skin started to bleed. "Belle!"_

I whimpered in my sleep as I gripped the sheets with my fingers.

_Fae cackled right in my face. "It's too late. He's dying. And you can't do anything about it!"_

_Gaspard thrashed and cried until all the fight was wiped out of him. I saw his eyes close._

I screamed myself awake. I heard violent raining pounding on my window. And I knew that I couldn't stay here. I had to be with him. Even if it was just for a short while. I jumped up and threw some clothes on and grabbed my rain coat. I ran down the stairs as quiet as I could. It was still dark with the late night. I ran head first into the rain and straddled my bike. I peddled faster than I ever had before, squinting in the rain.

* * *

><p>"Gaspard!" I screamed over the pitter patter of rain as I pounded on the closed double doors.<p>

They swung open powerfully, banging loudly on the walls inside. Fae was there, smirking at me, "Look who showed up."

"Stop this!" I screamed, "Stop this now! STOP KILLING HIM!"

Fae cackled with malice and evil glints in her vibrant green eyes, "I'm not, missy. You are."

I don't know what came over me. I was overcome with anger, rage, I just wanted to kill. Maybe if I killed her, then the curse would break and Gaspard would be fine. I attacked her, grabbing her fists and kicking into her legs. It did little to deter her reaction. She was much stronger than I was.

She pushed me and I flew into the stairs. I cringed in pain of the impact. I pushed myself up and tried to hit her but she got out of my reach. She threw me against the wall. I winced at the slam of my back against the wood but ignore it. She clasped her hands around my throat and squeezed. I tried to gasp for air and pry her hands off of my neck but it was no use.

I saw black spots on the sides of my eyes, "Gasp..."

Suddenly, she was ripped away from me. I fell painfully to the floor and took in large gasps and breaths for air. I looked up, dizzily, and saw Gaspard. He pulled her off of me. He still looked weak. He was breathing harshly and struggling to keep himself upright.

"What are you doing?" I called out as he came to my side.

Fae let out a screech and all the window shattered as wind picked up and blew through the house. Gaspard sheiled me from the falling glass. He cupped my face and said, "It'll be alright, Belle."

I pushed myself up the wall and looked into Gaspard's eyes, one the brightest blue of the ocean waves with specks of green in them like salt. The other, the darkest pool of blue I'd ever seen. Both, beautiful. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Fae grasp a long shard of glass and come at me.

I braced myself for the pain but Gaspard shoved me away and stood in front of me just as Fae struck with the jagged glass. It ripped into his stomach. He cried out as I shrieked. I fell down to his side and pressed my hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

I didn't notice Fae lift her hand to try and stab me again when this large cloud of yellow and green dust hit her in the back. She screamed shrilly, "No!" She screeched as her skin bubbled over. Black and charred, she fell into a pile of ash, slowly right in front of me.

I looked behind her and saw Emile with a brown velvet bag by the stairs.

I decided to ignore that for now and looked back down at Gaspard. His breathing was ragged and troubled as he tried to keep his eyes opened. I cupped his face in my hands, "Gaspard... open your eyes. Please. Just open your eyes."

He tried – I know he tried – but he was failing. I pressed my hand to the wound and looked up at Emile, "Get help!"

"Belle..." I looked down and Gaspard said, "I'm... sorry..."

"Don't say that. You're gonna be fine. Just keep your eyes open. Please, Gaspard."

"Maybe... It's better... this way..." He panted.

I shook my head, tears falling down from my face, "No, it's not. You have to live." I was frantic and looked insane – crying profusely, soaked from the rain, shouting for Gaspard to live.

"Love... you..." his eyes closed slowly and I felt the breath leave his body.

"No!" I screamed, "Open your eyes. You have to live. I need you here. Please." His eyes weren't opening though. I let out a sob, "Please, Gaspard, I need you." I leaned my forehead against his chest for a moment before sniffing and leaning over his face, "I love you..." My tears fell freely, falling down onto his face as they dripped off of mine.

His eyes didn't open. I felt the world crash around me as I realized that he wasn't waking up. I lost him.

I fell into his body and cried. I lost...

Suddenly his chest lifted under my head. I frantically sat up and looked at him. He was moving. Suddenly there was a blinding light emitting from his body. I flinched and covered my eyes, backing away. I could feel the light burn on the other side of my eye lids.

I heard a small shout and then the light was gone.

I slowly took my hand down and opened my eyes.

And I gasped.

* * *

><p><strong>Aw, they love each other! Do you think Belle broke the curse?<strong>

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**RegalGirl94**


	11. Love Breaks Curses

CHAPTER NINE

LOVE BREAKS CURSES

* * *

><p><em>Suddenly his chest lifted under my head. I frantically sat upand looked athim. He was moving. Suddenly there was a blinding light emitting from his body. I flinched and covered my eyes, backing away. I could feel the light burn on the other side of my eye lids.<em>

_I heard a small shout and then the light was gone. _

_I slowly took my hand down and opened my eyes._

_And I gasped._

Gaspard was there... but it wasn't the Gaspard I knew. It was the one I dreamt about. His face was... flawless. The burn marsk and slashes were gone and his skin was smooth and tanned. He was no longer bald, instead he had long flowing locks of dark dark hair that fell into his eyes. His eyes... they didn't change. One was still the most brilliant blue that rivalled the ocean and the other was still the darkest pool of blue I'd ever seen. Both were still beautiful.

He stood before me, looking down at himself in shock. He looked at me and smiled the most brilliant smile, "Belle... I'm me again."

I starred at him, in awe, "... Gaspard?"

He smiled and walked over to me, cupping my face in his hands. He laughed in disbelief, "It's me. It's really me."

I fingered the ends of his hair and looked deeply into his eyes. "It is you."

"Did I really hear you say what I thought you did?" Gaspard breathed out.

I blushed and nodded, "I love you."

He laughed out in happiness and picked me up, spinning me around, "I love you, Belle."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled, "I can't believe this. We won..."

He tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled softly, "Can I finally kiss you now?"

I smiled, "Well... you do have lips..." We both grinned at the memory, "And that's kind of what they're for..."

"Just kiss me already," Gaspard said and crashed his lips to mine. Our lips moved together like puzzle pieces. We smiled into each others mouthes.

Finally.

* * *

><p><strong>Aw she did break the curse! I'm sure you all knew that anyway. Aw, and they kissed! Epilogue is next. Pictures are on my profile.<strong>

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**RegalGirl94**


	12. Epilogue

EPILOUGE

* * *

><p>"OMG OMG OMG OMG!" Hannah and Cathy squealed.<p>

Gaspard smiled into my hair, holding me by the waist from behind. Hannah and Cathy kept chanting and squealing, "OMG HE'S SOOO CUTE!"

It had been a week since the curse was broken. I finally convinced Gaspard to come out of the manor. He's been shut in for so long that he couldn't believe it was safe to go out again.

"And he's got an accent!" Cathy screamed, "SO HOT!"

I laughed at their antics. Gaspard was meeting them as... him for the first time. He already met Silvia. And soon enough he would meet my dad. That would be … something.

"Okay, guys, he's still the same guy you met before..." I told them.

"Yeah...but... he's like you're prince charming. You battled a fairy together and he almost died saving your life. So romantic," Hannah sighed dreamily.

I blushed and smiled to myself. He was my prince charming.

"I love you," Gaspard whispered into my ear. I blushed even more.

Things were perfect.

* * *

><p>"Hello? I'm home."<p>

Hannah and Cathy ran down the stairs to greet dad. Gaspard and I were laying on my bed. Gaspard suddenly looked worried when he heard my dad was here. I laughed at his face and got up off the bed. "Come on, you've faced an eternity of evil and a fairy and a seemingly unbreakable curse. And you can't handle my dad?"

Gaspard blanched, "I've never met my girlfriend's father before..."

I giggled, "Girlfriend..."

He laughed at me and stood up. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed, "Shall we?"

I grabbed him hand, "We shall."

* * *

><p>"Dad? I'd like you to meet Gaspard... my boyfriend."<p>

Dad was silent and gaping. I had never dated before or shown interest in it. So needless to say that this was shocked. "How long was I gone?"

I blushed and laughed under my breath, "He's … he just moved here from France. Into the house at the top of the hill. He inherited it from family. He lives here with his Aunt Emile. We met shortly after you left for your trip... in the library."

"Of course," Dad grinned. He shook his head to himself and said, "Well... nice to meet you boy." He put his hand out to Gaspard. He looked at it like it was an alien. I slightly shoved him and he shook my dads hand. They started amiable conversation and I smiled.

* * *

><p>Aunt Silvia gasped, "Oh, I almost forgot!"<p>

I gave her a look, "What do you mean?"

She took a stack of papers out of her bag, "I finsished translating those papers. Found out how to break the curse too. So romantic."

Gaspard leaned over my shoulder, "Well what was it?"

Aunt Silvia smiled, "Love, dearie, true love."

I smiled up at Gaspard and he smiled softly down at me as he brushed his lips against mine.

True love.

* * *

><p><strong>Sappy but I had to do it. Everything worked out in the end of course. And of course true love broke the curse. True Love conquers all after all. Let me know what you thought. This is the first thing close to an original story that I've posted.<strong>

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